Breaking Hannah

This is more kind of an ode, but with a hint of sonnet, so it is here.

In this deep line of rotation You’d think I’d be used to the fight.... No, It still shocks my elation That this happens every night; When the crescent makes me believe, But my heart knows I am naive.

Your rabbit holes wonder the deep Of a deadly, dimming, pink light; It stupefies you to a sheep, Then succumbs you to this true might. Why do you make us go through this? You know it won’t ever bring bliss.

Spinning this way I ignore what I know to be an ugly truth That, if accepted, would bring cuts Slaying fresh flesh back to our youth, To the time where I had you late, And let you go...breaking our fate.

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